Prisons and Prayer; Or, a Labor of LoveWheaton, Elizabeth Ryder
Religion
Prisons and Prayer; Or, a Labor of Love
Wheaton, Elizabeth Ryder
Evangelistic work; Prisons
Yours at hand. It found us all well but Mr. T. He has been
complaining, but he is better now. We were blessed with Mr. and
Mrs. B. to sing and pray for us this morning and it was a great
comfort to us all. She was refused at first, but after she came
in and told us we sent her to Mr. C. and he told her to "sing and
pray for those men as much as she wanted to." It is queer for a
living being to not want the distressed to find relief, but it
seems as though there was but little mercy shown us here, and,
dear sister, I am sure there are some good hearts in here and God
surely will not allow them to be put to death. Yet it has been
done, and it can be done again, and I am not trusting in a single
word or act of man. I am reading my Bible and asking God to open
my heart to all faith and charity and reveal all the required
secrets to my heart so I can become one of his children in faith
and be sanctified in Him. I am so glad you wrote me. It does me
good to hear from you. Write soon, as I can only stay here till
June 21. Good-bye.
M----.
* * * * *
Columbus, Ohio, March 30, 1890.
Dear Sister in Christ:
Yours found me in some better health than I was when you last saw
me. I am so glad you will continue to write me. Like all other
persecuted souls, I sometimes think I have no friends. But it
cannot be so in my case.
I do not faint or shudder at the idea of dying in prison. It is
just as near heaven from this prison as it would be if I was at
home in the tender care of dear parents and brothers and sisters.
Yet I cannot say I am as happy here as there at home. I am not. I
feel sure my time is short in this world. I have a hard time. I
am in a sea of tears daily. Oh, it is so hard to be bound and
shut out from a free world, but this is all for some purpose,
unknown to me at present, but by the help of God, I my burden
will bear.
"I'll praise my Maker while I've breath,
And when my voice is lost in death,
Praise shall my nobler powers employ
In that Eternal World of joy."
"Lord, remember me for good,
Passing through this mortal veil;
Show me the atoning blood
When my strength and spirit fall.
Give my sorrowing soul to see
Jesus crucified for me."
"May God be your helper and bless you," is my prayer continually.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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